The Tailor and the Teacher
by ImanSlytherin
Summary: Young Sophia Carpenter is attacked by a vengeful spirit in Minneapolis and it's up to the Winchesters and her older sister, Lane, to fight it off. First chapter is kind of a prologue, it introduces the story. Writing Season Two ATM
1. The Case

**A/N: Heya! Back with a new fanfiction. I should've made this AN ages ago but I just went with the flow. First things first, I do not own Supernatural, the show or anything in-between. What I do own is my OCs and this AU.**

 **Rated T for: Swearing (like in the show, maybe a few F-bombs, I don't remember), Sensitive topics, Death, Hints of lime, Smoking and drinking... I think that's it.**

 **I know the end of this chapter is a little OOC and rushed but it's to get the story going... Alright, don't forget to review, it's always nice to get some feedback. Love x**

* * *

 **Minneapolis, Minnesota**

I shut the book and stood up from the rocking chair, making sure not to wake Sophia in the process. I put her to bed, placed the book on its shelf and closed the door to her room. I made my way downstairs and carried on packing the kitchenware.

I arrived in the empty living-room where the fireplace crackled joyfully and went through to the kitchen where most of the silverware was already in boxes. I started packing plates when I heard a door creak and click shut, and right after a chill ran up and down my spine from the unexpected cold. This was never a good sign in the Supernatural books, and for an insane second my eyes found the bowl of salt on the kitchen island. I shook it off as paranoia before I set back to packing, then…

"Aaaaargh!" came the high-pitched scream from Sophia's room.

I bolted upstairs as fast as I could, my hand reaching in my pocket ready to dial 911. I broke open the door to her room only to see a black, hooded figure bending over Sophia, and it looked like it was sucking the actual life out of her. I didn't think, I grabbed the rocking chair and threw it at the figure which looked at me menacingly. I gathered my courage and grabbed Sophia before bolting out of the room, already dialing 911 and hopping into my car toward the hospital.

* * *

 **Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

"So, what've you got for us, Bobby?" Sam asked as he sat across from the former's desk.

"Nothing much," grumbled Bobby, "just what looks like a Wendigo in New York and something that's been attacking kids in their sleep in Minnesota, three cases that leave children in a comatose state and one that's left in observation in the hospital…"

"D'you have anyone to take care of the Wendigo?" Asked Dean as he came in, handing each of them a beer.

"Rufus is near there, I'll give him the Wendigo and you can take care of whatever's harming the Minnesota kids although I think you both already know what that is," he stared at them meaningfully.

Dean shifted awkwardly, the Shtrig brought back painful memories. He looked sideways at Sam who took the time to ponder over the subject.

Bobby coughed to catch their attention again, "So, you're going or what?"

They snapped back into reality and set to go.

* * *

 **Minneapolis, Minnesota**

The day after, they were in their FBI attire, interrogating the parents of the three kids who were deep in comas. Apparently everyone had tried waking up their son or daughter the morning of their moving out and they just wouldn't respond. Then, they set to interrogate the one person whose child wasn't in a comatose state.

*•*•*•*•*•*

I was reading the fifth chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to Sophia when I heard a soft knock on the door.

Without turning to see who it was, I said, "She's perfectly healthy, can we go now?"

"Uh I'm sorry, Ms. Carpenter?" Said a deep voice.

I looked up to see two men in tuxedos, one sexy and one tall as the door, who showed me their FBI badges briefly before the taller sat on the chair across from me, on the other side of Sophia's bed. The sexy one seemed to be studying me, and calculating my age and Sophia's. Quick to judge, I see.

"Special agent Dean Rosewood, my partner Sam Evans."

I extended my hand for him to shake, "Lane Carpenter, here's Sophia."

Dean nodded at the both of us before he started talking, "We're here to ask you a few questions about the attack on Sophie–"

"Sophia," she corrected him.

I gave her a stern look, "If he wants to butcher your name, you let him. He's only here for a few minutes anyway…"

He raised his eyebrows at my statement before she spoke again, "Sorry Lane."

I half-smiled at her, "I forgive you." I turned to him, "I was downstairs, I heard her scream so I went to her room. I saw a black hooded figure and–"

"And she cast a Patronus and she saved me from the Dementor," Sophia cut in excitedly.

I laughed lightly, "I told you Dementors didn't exist, not exactly. Actually it did look like one, but I threw a chair at it and grabbed Sophia. She was unconscious when we got to the hospital but now she's fine."

"You threw a chair at it?" Said the other -Sam, was it?- incredulously.

"What would you have done? I don't have a gun…"

"You were ready to actually shoot someone?" Sam asked again while Dean tried to hide a smirk.

"Without blinking, no one touches her for as long as I'm there to protect her," I said more harshly than I had intended on, they made to back away but I spoke again, "do you have any other questions?"

"Did you feel, see or hear anything unusual prior to the attack? Perhaps a smell of sulfur, or rotten eggs?" Sam asked.

"Not that, my kitchen has better smells…"

He chuckled, "I don't doubt that, ma'am. Anything else?"

I thought hard, not trying to remember but trying to decide whether I should tell them about the cold and the door closing before Dean interrupted my thoughts, "Anything," he said with emphasis, "even if you don't think it's important."

"W-Well there was that moment when I felt a chill even though the fireplace was on, and I heard a door close on the ground floor, where I was."

They stared at one another as if I'd just given them the key to heaven and then turned back to me, "Well thanks ma'am, I think we've got everything we needed." said Sam before adding, "One last question, were you planning on moving out of your house anytime soon, going on a vacation maybe?"

I frowned at him, "Why d'you ask?"

He looked uncomfortable as Dean came to his aid, -what kind of federals are they?- "It's procedural to ask that kind of questions, as… out of topic as they can be."

I raised my eyebrows, whoever these guys were, federal agents was not one of the options I had in mind, "Right," I said suspiciously, "well I was actually packing when the attack happened."

They gave each other meaningful looks and Dean said, "Thanks ma'am, we got everything we wanted. Sorry for the disturbance. Goodbye Sophia."

"Bye," she said distractedly as she kept on reading the book by herself.

Sam took a good look at Sophia as he shook my hand and told her, "Don't let the bugs bite, Sophia. And take care of your mom."

She gave him a thumbs up and a small smile before saying, "Yep!"

"One last thing," I said before they could close the door, they turned to me with quizzical looks on their faces, "could you arrange for the hospital to let us leave as soon as possible? I don't think she needs to stay here for another three days, it's too much and I have arrangements to be in South Carolina in a week."

Dean spoke, "Uhh we'll see what we can do."

"Thanks," I replied as they shut the door.

"What do you think?" Sophia asked me hopefully.

I shook my head, "Nope, sorry love."

She sighed heavily, "Bollocks."

I raised one eyebrow at her, she sure was old for her eight years…

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

The boys went back to their motel room. Sam sighed heavily, loosened his tie and sat on his bed as Dean made his way to the shower. Shortly after, they were in their usual clothes, Sam doing research on his laptop and Dean eating a burrito, his phone against his ear waiting for Bobby to pick up.

"Yeah, Bobby," he said once the ringing stopped, "I think it's a ghost."

"A ghost?" came Bobby's grunt, "Not a–?"

"No, not a Shtrig," Dean said quickly and set down the burrito before adding, "can you look up some dead guy or woman who wouldn't want the Minneapolis people to move out? Or their kids?"

"Sure, I can do that, just gimme–"

"No need, I just found someone… He was sort of a Minneapolis dictator, people who wanted to move out of town usually had to ask for permission and guess what the price was?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Their kid?"

"The youngest person in their household, and they would be executed by a guy who wore a black hood," Sam added meaningfully.

"Executed?" Repeated Bobby, "So why's nobody dead yet? And did you find out why the fourth kid isn't in comas?"

"Yeah, her mom threw a chair at the thing and it vanished," said Dean.

"Hold up," said Sam closing his laptop, "she never said it vanished, just that she threw the chair and grabbed her daughter. So for all we know–"

"–it might still be there, which means that it could attack Lane any moment she's home," Dean finished urgently, "we need to go, Bobby thanks."

"She threw a chair at it?" Bobby repeated after Dean hung up.

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

I checked my watch as I was heading for the receptionist to ask to see Sophia's doctor, make his life hell and wait until he let Sophia go on my terms. Although when I got downstairs the two FBI agents, now dressed as casually as they could, were talking to the very doctor who annoyed me. I went to them and cleared my throat.

"Ms. Carpenter!" Doctor Wills said, surprised, "What can I do for you?"

"Let my sister out of here, perhaps?" I asked before turning to the agents, "No thanks to you, of course."

"Is that how you talk to federal agents?" Wills scolded, trying to sound like a father. I hated fathers.

I gave him the look I gave Sophia when she messed up before turning to the agents, "Nice jackets, by the way."

Sam shifted awkwardly while Dean tried to hide a smirk, "Thanks, Ms. Carpenter."

"Oh save it," I growled and addressed Wills, "I'm leaving with my sister tonight and there's no stopping us."

Wills tried to reason with me while Dean and Sam shared incredulous looks, I even heard Dean whisper, "'Sister'?" while Sam shrugged helplessly.

"Ms. Carpenter you can't possibly be serious, Sophia needs to be checked for any–"

"She's fine for God's sake!" I bellowed, making the three of them jump slightly, my looks made people think I was a calm person -well, I was but just to a certain extent-, "I checked her vital signs, I checked everything she's fine. Why won't you let her go?"

"It's actually on our demand," Dean said solemnly while Sam looked at him as if he'd just spilled a secret.

I glared at him, " _Your_ demand?"

"Yes, we figured that as the attacker was not able to 'finish his work' with Sophia he might want to attack again when she's home."

I did not believe a word of what he'd just said but I just rolled with it, "If she doesn't go back to the house at all, he won't come back right?"

"That's what we think, yes," said Dean looking slightly relieved.

"Then I'll finish packing up, rent the truck and pick up Sophia by this evening," I stated, walking away from them.

"Whoa, hold your horses there," Dean stammered, "you mean to say that you're going back there alone?"

"Do you see anyone with me?" I asked matter-of-factly.

"We'll come with you then," suggested Sam.

Both Dean and I gave him a sideways look as his eyebrows jumped and he smiled apologetically at Dean who said, "Yes, we'll come with you. Offer protection."

"Cool, then I hope you won't be too sour about some packing. I only have the kitchen and the rooms upstairs left to do," I ordered, satisfied.

Dean pursed his lips and Sam gave me a tight smile and nod. I turned to Wills, "Tonight."

He gulped, contrarily to the agents he looked more sour than worried, "As you wish, Miss."

We went to the parking lot and they followed my car home. Once we were there, they got out of their magnificent black car. I wasn't a car nerd but I knew beautiful ones when I saw them. Dean gave me a half-smile when he saw me looking at his car, he must be really proud of it and I totally understood that.

"Home sour home," I sighed as I let them in.

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

They walked inside the mostly empty house and the first thing that they noticed was the amount of boxes and mostly the ones tagged 'BOOKS' which were arranged as they would be in a library with 'Horror', 'Adventure', and 'Kids' sections.

"Holy books?" Dean read aloud.

"Gotta know your religion from top to bottom, right?" Lane said from the kitchen.

"We uh, we're not the religious type," said Sam quite uncomfortably.

She pursed her lips before saying, "Have you already considered it?"

"Yep," Dean said simply, looking around intently. What exactly was be hoping to find, footprints?

"Well then, I've nothing to lecture you about. Follow me," she said marching up the stairs.

They followed her and Sam spoke, "Do you mind me asking why you're moving out?"

"The neighbors aren't exactly nice people and I don't take crap from anyone," she replied simply before pointing at a pink door, "this is Sophia's room, who's going to do it?"

"Uh I think I am," piped Sam raising a hand.

"The boxes are in there, labeled and almost halfway full. Leave the books last, I'll take care of those," she ordered.

"Okay," he agreed as he got in.

"Kitchen or my room?"

"Huh?"

She emphasized, "Would you like to pack the kitchen or my room?"

Dean blinked at her and said, "Whichever you like. Why exactly aren't the neighbors nice people?"

"Aren't you a little nosy?" Lane teased before looking solemn, "They judge too quickly, a bit like you did back at the hospital," he tried to justify himself before she interrupted him, "it's okay, it's not like I'm not used to it. Although she's not the only reason why they were judging me. I'm a Muslim, you see. And it's never been the same since 9/11.

"Still, I decided to move here when the occasion presented itself. Mom would've liked that… So my aunt arranged for Sophia and me to come here, I could carry on my studies in Literature and Sophia would grow up in a country where she wouldn't be thought of as an abomination."

"Why would people think of her as an abomination, I mean she's your sister," he objected…

"We were in a Muslim country and my mom wasn't married when she got pregnant with her… Not that it mattered anyway, Algerian people aren't the best at socialization."

"Algeria? Where's that, Middle-East?"

"North Africa, actually," she said.

"All the same, people come with their luggage the least we could do is help," he said.

"Anyway, I'm moving out and I'll try to live in Canada. I hear they're more tolerant there," Lane said with a smile.

"I thought you were going to South Carolina?" He asked confused.

"I'm free to tell people lies about my destination," she answered, folding her arms over her chest, "and I didn't feel like you were real federal agents anyway…"

He choked on air at that, "What makes you say that?"

"It's pretty obvious," she giggled.

"Well damn," he breathed.

"So, really," she said, "who are you?"

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

"I'm Dean Winchester, and he's my brother Sam," he admitted defeatedly.

"Like the books?" I asked making him sigh deeply of… Annoyance, was it?

"Yes, like the books," he said before muttering to himself.

I wanted to leave him alone about it but the bookworm inside of me was taking over, "So is it all real?" I inquired excitedly.

He sighed again deeply and ran his hand over his face, "Yes, it's all real."

"Oh… And what's the uh case here? I don't expect you've interrogated me just because of how awesome I am, so…"

He chuckled before saying, "Don't you know? Three kids are in comas in your town and Sophia is the only one who's awake. The last one attacked I think. The weird part is that all the families that were attacked were about to move out of town."

"Oh," I said simply.

"You really didn't know about this?" He asked incredulously.

"Well no, I'm not exactly sociable. So what'd you think caused all that?"

"The ghost of one of the first mayors, he used to set a price for any household that wanted to move out of town, their youngest member," he said grimly.

"Peachy," I said sarcastically as we both set to work in my room.

He put my personal effects in bubble wrap while I took care of my clothes. Sam was done soon and he offered to do the kitchen while I sorted the books in Sophia's room and Dean strolled around the house with the EMF and his shotgun at the ready. After an hour or so, everything was packed and I was on the phone with the truck rental company discussing the sooner they could send in my moving truck.

It was sunset when I was moving my safe into my car when I got a phone call from the hospital.

"Hello?"

"Yes, was it you who took your sister out of the hospital?" Asked a worried someone.

"No! I haven't, what do you mean 'is it you?'?!" I shouted back at her, making the boys come out of the house.

"What happened?!" Sam asked loudly.

"Sophia's gone from the hospital!" I bellowed back.

Dean's eyes widened as Sam's jaw dropped, both in shock, and then Dean said, "The doctor, the ghost must be possessing him."

"What kind of shit town is this, really!" I cried as I went to the driver's side of my car.

Dean saw me and said, "Come with us, we'll be faster!"

"Do we even know where we're going?" Sam asked.

"I do," said Dean as he stomped onto the pedal.

He started explaining where we were heading and why but I couldn't focus, my baby sister was missing and some ghost possessing her doctor was going to try and kill her, or worse. I unconsciously started to recite the Holy Coran and pray to God that she be alright. I was nearly crying when I heard a flutter of wings and felt the weight on the backseat shift. I bit my bottom lip to keep from yelling in surprise when I saw a black haired, blue eyed man in a trenchcoat. Out of context, he'd have been really attractive, but now was not the time to swoon over someone. Especially not when he was obviously not human.

"I got your call," he said in a deep voice.

"Cas!" Exclaimed Dean in surprise, "Whose call, I didn't call you…"

"Yeah, neither did I," added Sam.

"Then it must've been mine, although I asked God to keep her safe not to send someone," I said, staring at him quizzically.

"You said to send an angel for help. I am an angel of the Lord, my name is Castiel," he said, his hands on his lap and looking straight ahead.

"And how exactly are you going to be of use in here?" I asked presumptuously, earning surprised looks from the brothers, "What? I don't know him and I need my sister safe, I'm perfectly fine in comparison."

Dean stuck out his bottom lip, "She's got a point, y'know."

Castiel fumbled with his hands and faced me awkwardly, "I am sorry for not being of any use to find your sister."

"Sorry's not gonna help me finding her, don't you have some sort of radar or something?"

"Breathe, Lane," Dean suggested, staring at me through the rear view mirror.

I followed his advice but it didn't feel any better so I went back to reciting the Holy Coran and praying to God…

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

The Impala pulled up near an abandoned building, Sam and Dean both got out of the car and started loading their guns and pockets with ammo while Lane watched helplessly. What was the use of asking for a gun or going inside when she didn't know how to shoot?

"Do you know where the cemetery is?" Dean asked, bringing her into focus.

She nodded, "Yeah it's–"

"Great Cas will take you and you're going to dig up Bartholomeus Johnson's grave. He lived in the 19th century. You read the books, right?"

"Uh yeah, I did," she replied feebly.

"You know how we get rid of ghosts?" He asked again, urgency splattering his voice.

"Salt and burn the remains," she replied automatically.

"Awesome, now here's what you'll need," he threw a duffle bag at her feet, "Cas, the cemetery, now. We're gonna delay him and put her to safety, she'll be alright I promise."

Lane was going to thank him when her feet hit grass instead of concrete, the duffle bag still at her feet and the angel at her side. She picked the bag up and started looking for that damned mayor's grave. She'd arrived to the older aisles when an owl hooted in the night, she muttered a curse as she continued looking for Bartholomeus.

"Isn't that him?" Asked Castiel's uncertain voice.

She went to check, "Yes, thanks. D'you mind helping me with the digging?"

"Not at all," he replied and with a swipe of his hand a deep crack appeared on the soil.

"Not what I expected, but it's easier anyway."

And so she set to work while the boys were already in the centre of the building, although they hadn't found Sophia yet. They opened every door they found but still no sign of the little girl.

"You're sure they'd be here?" Sam asked Dean.

"Yeah, it was where Bart's office was when he was human…"

"Maybe there was a-a hidden room or somewhere they executed the youngest members?" Sam offered.

"Oh yeah, let me just activate my secret-room-detector, don't you think I thought of that?!" Dean shouted frustratedly.

"Maybe it's in his office but we just didn't see it, come on…"

Effectively, there it was. A button to push right behind a life-size painting of Bartholomeus himself. They descended the flight of stairs and tried to be as quiet as possible as they approached yet another door behind which they could hear the muffled voice of a struggling little girl. They kicked the door open and Sam went to untie Sophia from the chair she was on while Dean inspected the place, shotgun at the ready. He'd found the doctor's lifeless body in a corner and groaned.

"Where is he, Sophia?" Dean asked her.

She rubbed her wrists, saying, "I don't know, he smoked out of Doctor Wills and went through there," she pointed at the vent.

"Awesome," Dean grunted as Sam lifted the girl on his hip.

They went back to the Impala safely and Dean used his phone to call Cas. Little did he know that Cas had other matters at hand. While she was spraying salt over the mayor's skeleton, Lane got knocked out and he set to work on the burning of Bartholomeus before the latter appeared. And he was more than discontent at the offense against his remains, they were in a mojo fight when the Impala parked close to the gates of the graveyard.

Dean came alone at Castiel's rescue while Sam made sure that Sophia was safe. As soon as the ghost knew of Dean's venue it changed tactics, and decided instead to possess Lane.

"You get out of her right now!" Dean shouted.

"Or what?" Said Lane's distorted voice.

"I'm burning your bones," threatened Dean.

Lane clicked her tongue, "Ts-ts-ts-ts you don't wanna do that, lad."

"And why not?"

"Because if I burn, she burns with me," she replied, an evil smirk on her face.

Dean thought hard, he couldn't burn the bones without hurting her, although he could exorcise him out of her right before he burned the remains. It'd be a close call, too close actually, Bart would possess anyone in the time it took to burn him…

"You know, it'd be a shame if she came to be harmed," Bart said through Lane, "I did a bit of medicine studies before I became mayor, and I know exactly where to tickle so that she, say, might never walk again. Or to make her need two kidneys, or better: make her stop breathing."

"I'm warning you Bart!" Dean yelled, pointing his gun at Lane on impulse.

Lane extended her hand and a knife flew out from the inner pocket of Dean's leather jacket and into her hand. She smiled evilly as she stabbed her own lower abdomen, making Dean backtrack on his moves. Castiel took that opportunity to exorcise the ghost and burn the remains while Dean went to her aid.

* * *

 ***•*•*•*•*•***

What was that beeping noise that I kept hearing for years, it felt? I started to be aware of my surroundings about five seconds before I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital, only difference was that _I_ was the patient. I looked around, I had an IV drip piercing the back of my left hand and I felt something sticking to my belly. Just then, I heard voices in the corridor and a small set of feet was running and all of a sudden my room's door burst open to my personal reason to still be alive: Sophia.

"Lane, what happened? Sam and Dean won't tell me, you've been asleep for days and days!" She squealed, holding my right hand in hers.

"Not days, just the week-end," said Dean coming in.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to sit up but stopping mid-way, it stung like hell.

"It's best if you don't sit up for a while," Sam said, sitting at my bedside.

"For the second time, what happened?" I asked, more annoyed by then.

"Bart possessed you and he wanted to mutilate you but we exorcised him before he could do any further harm," Dean stammered.

Sam looked solemn as he said, "Although there's one thing that you should know…"

"What are you waiting for, your cue? Just tell me what's wrong already!"

"I-I'm really sorry, but where he stabbed you… Made it that you'll never be able to have kids of your own…" He finished gravely.

I sat there, waiting for him to add more life-shattering information, "Is that it, then?"

"What'd you mean?" Sam asked, confused.

"Don't you have to tell me that, I don't know, I've got AIDS, a tumor maybe?" I offered sarcastically.

"W-Well we're really sorry that this happened to you, we tried to save you best we could," Sam said apologetically.

"All-in-all, not our best hunt," Dean added grimly.

"What's that angel for?" I asked, a little angry by then.

"What?"

"Do you shove a Christmas tree up his ass in December or..?" I asked, even more rude than I intended to. I always had a bad temper.

"Is there anything that we could do for you?" Sam asked.

I pondered over what he'd just asked me… What would I ask from them? What _could_ I ask from them? I did have something gnawing at the back of my mind, but they wouldn't possibly accept… Maybe I could make them feel guilty enough to agree with my terms. I'd have to be careful, though.

"Well, there are two things," I phrased carefully, they shifted awkwardly, "and it's alright if you can't do one of them, but I really need those. Either one or the other, is that okay?"

Sam frowned and Dean pressed his lips into a thin line, despite that they both nodded.

"The first option is that you help me become a hunter, or at least that Sophia and I tag along with you two. I can leave her with a nanny during cases and such and we'd be more effective…"

"No," said Dean forcefully, "absolutely not. It's too dangerous, what if something happens to you, you're… Sophia, can you wait outside for a minute?"

"But I wanna listen," she protested weakly, I nodded at her to follow his order, "okay then…"

Dean waited for the door to close before he resumed his speech, "You're all she's got, Lane. We can't let you do this, it's way more dangerous than what you read in books. What if something happens to you?"

"Something _has_ happened to me, in case you've forgotten," I said, "and I still have another wish."

"What is it?" Sam asked, obviously trying to get away from that topic.

"I want my uterus back," I said making Dean curse under his breath.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam whimpered, evidently defeated. Mission accomplished.

"You're good," said Dean sarcastically.

"So I'm in?" I asked hopefully.

"I have several conditions before that," he objected, lifting an authoritarian finger at me.

"Okay," I agreed, not knowing that my life had just taken the most unexpected turn.


	2. The Deal

**Alright, so we get to the meat of the story here with the introduction of Crowley. He might be a little OOC, I don't know...**

 **Please review? x**

* * *

 **Three Months Later**

I am now a Winchester! Figuratively, of course. Not that I'm dating any of them, no. More like an honorary sister, in fact, a comrade in arms.

I most often stayed at Bobby's, though, for Dean deemed me "not experienced enough" to accompany them at every case. I helped Bobby and taught Sophia when I wasn't making research for the cases.

The most disturbing news that I had since joining the Winchesters was that the world was midway to the apocalypse. Sam and Dean were the vessels of Lucifer and Michael, respectively, and they couldn't possess the brothers without their agreement. Both had refused, not wanting to aliment the conflict between the angels, or hurt their own brother in the process. And so they were looking for ways to kill Lucifer without the battle to happen, for it would cause the death of millions of people.

Castiel had grown accustomed to me and Sophia in about six weeks, and even called us his friends. Sophia and I had met many of Sam and Dean's acquaintances, Jodie Mills was one of them and she was always nice to Sophia and me, joking about how we spent our time with a drunk and his adopted sons. Another person we'd met was Crowley, and it was not on the best circumstances…

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

We were going to get the Colt, a gun that was supposed to kill anything, made by Samuel Colt. Sam had told me that it was in the possession of Crowley, a demon that was affiliated with Lilith who had bought it from Bela, a saleswoman for hunters who'd stolen it from the brothers a while back.

The plan was that Jo Harvelle and I would pretend to have had an inconvenience with our car so that the gates of the expressibly large mansion would open and we could eliminate the guards outside. Jo was wearing a classy, short black dress and her hair was in a pretty updo. I had a much more casual look, with a white tank top; black, leather pants; shiny black heels and a brown leather jacket with my hair in auburn waves.

Everything went according to plan and when Sam and Dean were done with the guards…

"You were great, now you two go home," he instructed, to our great discontent.

Jo went South and I went East, accordingly. I was halfway to my car, in a dark alleyway with just the clicking of my shoes against the pavement when I heard a flutter –not of wings like Castiel's but fabric or something. On the inside pocket of my jacket was an iron blade in its case, and as quickly as I possibly could I grabbed the handle and stopped walking.

"Hello Poppet," a husky, British voice greeted me.

I whipped around, thinking I'd see a tall, muscled man but what I saw had me perplexed. I tried to avoid showing emotion as I studied the man that stood before me. He was as tall as me —when I was wearing flats, that was— and he had a black-on-black tuxedo. His hair was as black as his outfit and he wore a winning smirk as he slipped his hands in his pants' pockets.

He seemed to be expecting a response from me, because he said, "Not very talkative, are you?"

"Who are you?" I asked, cursing myself for the trembling of my voice.

Even worse, he'd noticed, "No need for fear, my love. You'll see I'm a lovable, and fair, man."

"Who are you?" I asked, more forcefully this time.

"Name's Crowley," he said, waving a small hand.

I couldn't help but be taken aback by that fact. The man who had such a great reputation among crossroads demons and who had possessed someone so rich looked like _that_?

I blinked thrice and frowned, "Crowley?"

"My reputation precedes me, I see," he said, flattered.

"I've somewhere I need to be," I said before turning my back on him.

He appeared a few yards before me, making me jump, "Now, don't be so rude Poppet. I just mean to talk."

I gazed at him, wary, "What'd you want?"

"I know a lot about you," he began, "new member of the Winchester league, you served as bait tonight with the blonde, you apparently have a… Small weakness, I'll say…"

I shuddered, he knew about Sophia, "Skip to the punchline, will you?"

He chuckled, making me feel as though a ghost had just come by me, "You tell the Winchesters that if they want to screw me over after Lucifer's done, I've got a firm grasp on you and someone is watching your sister at this exact moment. They make the mistake of thinking that I'm smite-able, I'll show them otherwise."

At that moment, I was scared shitless, but I gathered enough nerve to ask, "Where is she? Where do you think my sister is, for you to have someone watching her? What do you know about me?"

"You've joined arms with the Winchesters a few weeks ago, you have a little sister and you both live at Bobby Singer's house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota," he said smugly.

I gulped hard, "You want to hurt someone, hurt me instead. She's barely lived life."

"Ahh, now that's what I like," he said huskily, "self-sacrifice for a loved one. Really good, in a soul. I'll love torturing you in hell, Poppet."

At that moment, I was desperate so I tried calling Castiel inwardly all while trying to think of ways to avoid Crowley.

"I haven't made a deal yet, though," I objected, folding my arms over my chest.

He half-smiled and stuck his forefinger at me, "Yet." I gulped again, "Well as pleasant as this encounter is, I have to go. Toodles, Poppet."

He snapped his fingers and disappeared at once, letting me release a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I hurried to my car and started the engine, my fingers shaking and my breathing haggard. I blasted Tchaikovsky in the radio and tried to calm down to Swan Lake, with no success.

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

We'd met again, and again. Crowley had proven quite useful, a little less frightening and I must say, quite funny — I hadn't expected that. Now we were in Bobby's office — sort of, and he was going to announce something.

"You know with the apocalypse and all that, what's one little soul, right?" Bobby said.

"You sold your soul to Crowley?" Asked Dean, outraged.

"Crowley?" I asked in disbelief.

"More like, poned it. I fully intend to give it back," said the demon.

"Then give it back, you son of a bitch!" Dean bellowed.

"Not until all this is over and you didn't screw me over!" Crowley bellowed back.

"Did you kiss him?" Sam asked Bobby.

"Sam," uttered Dean, exasperated.

"Just wondering," he defended himself.

We all stared at Bobby for answer until he said, "No!" outraged.

Crowley cleared his throat and we turned to him, he held an iPhone that, after we looked closer, bore a picture of Crowley kissing Bobby full on the mouth. We pondered over the picture and the thought of either kissing the other, Dean even tilted his head in the process while I tried to calm a fit of giggles that had taken over me.

It was Bobby who took us out of our reverie by asking Crowley, "Why'd you take a picture?"

Crowley raised his eyebrows at him and retorted, "Why'd you have to use tongue?"

"Now I have a mental picture!" I moaned, a hand on my temple. "I'll pick Sophia up from school, it's almost time."

"Later, Poppet," said Crowley with a small wave.

"'Poppet'?" Bobby repeated, scrunching up his face.

I gave him a pointed look before saying, "'Poppet' doesn't beat French kissing Crowley, of all demons."

Dean had just started saying, "Woo—!" when Crowley retorted, "Not like you haven't been dreaming about it ever since we met, darling."

"Ouch!" said Sam with a wince.

Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital, but why?

"I'll see you probably sooner than you think," said Crowley before disappearing in a snap of his fingers.

I picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Lane Carpenter?"

"Speaking."

"Your sister was admitted here earlier today, she collapsed at school because of her asthma. She is now stationary but it is advisable for you to come as soon as possible, we're thinking of making her sleep her sickness off," said a male doctor.

"I'll come as soon as I can," I replied flatly, trying not to worry the guys too much. They have much more to worry about.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Sophia uh fell, she doesn't have any broken bones or anything bad they just want me to pick her up," I said, trying to sound casual.

"You sure you don't want us to come with?" Dean asked, worried. Dammit!

"No, it's just like picking her up from school," I assured him.

Bobby kept his gaze upon my eyes while I gathered my jacket and purse and just when I was at the door he rolled his chair at me and said, "You've never been a good liar," I fumbled over what to tell him but he interrupted me, "just make sure she's okay."

I smiled at him and grasped his hand, seeking comfort, "Thanks, Bobby."

He smiled back and murmured, "Go."

"Please don't tell them, I know they'll be worried and they've got enough on their plates without that," I requested.

"It's okay, just go."

I followed his advice and stomped on the accelerator toward Sioux Falls General. It took me a little less than ten minutes to get there and I reached Sophia's room with no problems. There she was, lying on a hospital bed with a IV drip on the crook of her elbow and her bust propped to a half-sat position, which I only knew too much.

She was awake, and probably suffering with every breath she drew, but she smiled at me anyway and said in an extremely croaky voice, "I told them I shouldn't do PE, but they didn't listen to—" a fit of coughing stopped her from finishing her sentence.

I sat in the edge of her bed and shushed her softly, "Don't speak, honey. Just focus on breathing." Sophia nodded and tried to clear her throat best she could.

I was about to tell her what the doctor told me about making her fall into an artificial comas when said doctor came in. He was almost as tall as Sam and had a bald patch among his silver hair and a kind, though mysterious smile plastered on his wrinkled face.

"Why hello there," he said with a slight British intonation, "I think it's time for little Sophia to go to sleep, isn't it? We've already explained it all to her and she said she understood what we were gonna do and why."

I looked at her and she nodded, so I went to her and kissed her forehead, "I love you to heaven and back, Sophia."

She smiled at me as her doctor added morphine in her IV tube an she almost immediately drifted to sleep.

"I still need you to fill a few forms and—"

A nurse came in and interrupted him, "Doctor Thompson, someone is asking to see Sophia. Says his name is Bobby and he's her uncle, he's at the receptionnist's."

Thompson turned to me, "Do you know such a person?"

I nodded and then sighed, "I told him not to worry but the smartass must've thought it worth coming."

"Well you should hold him at the receptionnist's, no one should disturb her. If she tries to wake up, she'll spend more efforts doing so than actually healing," Thompson objected.

I agreed and went down to greet and growl over Bobby. I told them not to worry or come along and that included him, how could he—? I stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn't Bobby waiting for me at the receptionnist's. Rather a squat man in a tuxedo, looking satisfied with himself.

"Uncle Bobby," I greeted him in an overly sweet tone, "you've changed quite a bit since the last time we've seen each other. Let's talk it over outside, in the parking lot."

"Let's, _niece_ ," he mimicked my tone as I lead the way toward my car.

We arrived there wordlessly and as soon as we were there I grabbed my iron blade and stuck it right under his chin, hearing a satisfying sizzle in the process. He was as surprised as to raise his hands in surrender.

"Feisty," he mocked.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't run this through your throat," I seethed through my clenched jaw.

He smirked and said, "My good looks?"

I pushed the blade harder, making him bleed a little, "I said one _good_ reason."

"I can save her," he said with what looked like honesty.

"'Save her'?" I repeated, "It's only temporary, I've been in worse states yet here I am."

"Only thing is, the doctors aren't telling you the whole truth in fear you should have an extreme reaction," he said, lifting his forefinger, "now if you please, I'd appreciate not having iron right through my throat, thanks."

I backed away a little and eyed him suspiciously, "How can I know you're not lying to get a hold of my soul?"

He shrugged and slid a hand in his pocket, "You can't. Although what I can do is show you what the doctors are saying about her in private."

"How—?" I had barely started my sentence that he'd zapped the both of us in Sophia's room.

Thompson was there with the nurse who'd announced Crowley. They were looking at a file and X-rays of a child's lungs.

"What'd you think, Carl?" She asked.

He kissed his teeth, "I don't think she's gonna make it through the week… we should probably warn her sister right about now. Go find her Kate, and please be tactful. This isn't something someone can live through easily."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My heart was beating in my ears, my breath caught inside my throat, and I suddenly felt the need to sit down. I unconsciously grabbed onto Crowley's sleeve for attraction and I didn't know until he huffed and muttered something about sweat on his vest.

He snapped his fingers and we were back next to my car. I had tears stinging my eyes, I hadn't cried in months. The last time I did was when it hit me that I'd never have children of my very own, true I had Sophia, but it never felt like my very own child. She was only my half-sister after all. Still, I never let anyone _see_ me cry in years— nine years to be exact.

I looked into Crowley's face and saw nothing but greed and fake compassion, "You're more than glad that this happened, aren't you?"

"Oh no, it pains me mostly to see little Sophie—"

"—Sophia—"

"—whatever, in such a pitiful state. Such," he emphasized, "a _fatal_ state. But I _am_ the King of the Crossroads, and I can never fake uninterest in a good deal opportunity."

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. What was I expecting? He was a demon, after all. He couldn't possibly weep with me and hand me a handkerchief. Only a contract to sign, or to seal with a kiss — which was more Crowley's style, regardless of gender…

I resigned myself to ten years of dread and an eternity of damnation in hell when I said, in barely a whisper, "Heal her."

Of course, he poured salt into my cuts by saying, "Sorry, didn't catch that." gesturing to his ear. "Are you accepting the deal, then?"

I cleared my throat and nodded, saying, "Yes. But that's not it. If I want to make a deal with you, it has to be a good one with no ambiguity."

"No ambiguity? What do you think I am—?"

"A demon, maybe?" I supplied rhetorically.

He gave me a stern look, "State your terms."

"You heal her, she never gets sick again, and Bobby can walk again." I requested with conviction.

He raised his eyebrows at me and chuckled, "I'm sorry, do I look like a genie out of a lamp to you, Poppet? Why not ask for world peace while you're at it, maybe puppies too THAT WOULD BE GREAT!" he finished in a yell.

I winced when he yelled. I never liked loud people, "Can you please stop screaming your lungs off, I'm not in the mood to put up with your tantrums!" I bellowed, though much less louder than him.

He surveyed me, head to toe. He said, much calmer, "I would like to grant you that, Poppet. But my powers can only go that far. You make your wish for one person, darling."

"Heal her and she never gets sick again… So I've got ten years?" I asked, still somewhat unsure of what I was doing.

"Fair and square," he murmured as he stepped toward me, "time to seal the deal, love."

He stared at me, straight in the swollen, wet eyes with a glimpse to my trembling lips.

"Come here, I don't bite," he teased, "unless you want—"

I cut him off by crashing my lips onto his and placing my hand on the side of his neck. I hadn't kissed anyone in more than ten years, but I hadn't lost my touch I reckoned. He put a hand on the back of my neck and slid his tongue into my mouth. I complied, feeling more than the deal in that kiss and not just from me. Our lips separated and connected again, his move, not mine. He caressed my cheek and I bit his bottom lip. Our lips danced a little more until he broke off the kiss.

He smirked, "Didn't peg you for a biter, Poppet."

"Is she fine now?" I asked.

"I am no charlatan," he replied, "got to go. See you in ten years, Poppet." I raised an eyebrow at him and he kissed his teeth frustratedly, "Well seeing who you hang around with, I'm guessing it'll be much less than that. You caught my drift, I'm off, Sophie's alive and kicking for a long time."

I sighed and opened my car to sit on the driver's seat. Crowley was still standing outside my car, surveying me.

I gave him a dirty look and he raised his eyebrows, "What?!"

"Privacy, maybe?" I retorted, exasperated.

"Shouldn't you go see your—?"

"Shouldn't you mind your own freaking business for once?!" I yelled at him.

He shrugged in a 'I got your soul anyway' kind of way and said, "Toodles." before disappearing in the snap of his fingers.

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

A few days later, we were getting ready for a mission and Crowley was tagging along. Fantastic. I hadn't told anyone about the deal, though Spphia spent much more time with Jodie.

"You just gonna sit there, Bobby?" Crowley asked, gesturing to his wheelchair.

"No, I'm gonna riverdance," he replied in his most usual sassy tone.

"Really wasted that crossroads deal, did you?" Crowley said, confusing us all before he added, "I took the liberty of adding a little sub-A clause in your contract."

We were all silent as understanding started flooding our minds. Bobby stared at Crowley in awe before he slowly but surely attempted to move his feet… Successfully! I couldn't believe it, I'd never thought that Crowley would actually do it.

Bobby stood up and the demon caught my eye, giving me an ever so slight wink that had I blinked I would've missed it, and he said in a self-satisfied tone, "What can I say? I'm an altruist."

"You son of a bitch," said Bobby, still in awe that a demon would have done something so… Good.

After getting over their shock, everyone went with the flow because we still had a mission to get over with. I was supposed to be driving the truck with Bobby's wheelchair in, but it was decided that they move all the guns, ammo and other weapons in my car. I took the driver's seat and Crowley came in shotgun.

I started the car and called Jodie who kindly accepted to look after Sophia while we were gone, "Hey Jodie, how's everything going on?"

"It's a great idea to have her spend the night," she replied excitedly, "you should go on missions more often."

I laughed softly before saying, "Tell her I love her, and don't let her sleep too late, okay?"

"I know, you've told me several times when you dropped her off," she said, a smile readable on her voice.

"You know I'm obsessive," I remarked laughing lightly.

"Yeah I know, just make sure you come back in one piece, alright?"

"I'll do my best," I promised before hanging up.

"You doubt my reliability?" Crowley asked in a conversational tone.

I looked him in the eye for the second time since the deal and said, "I have OCD when it comes to her… By the way,—"

"No need to thank me for Singer," he said, raising a hand, "I decided you were too good a kisser to refuse legs for the old man."

"You're talking about an old man?" I asked sarcastically.

"My meatsuit is younger and much more attractive than Singer," he said in a way that suggested his self-preservation.

I sighed as Bobby got in the backseat, "I do wish I don't become a demon…"

* * *

 **Please Review? :)**


	3. Weekend At Bobby's

**One Year Later**

Much had happened since the deal: Lucifer and Michael were thrown into Lucifer's cage by Sam who fell with them, Dean resigned himself to go and live with Lisa and Ben as he'd promised his brother, Castiel went back to heaven, Bobby got back to being the helper of all hunters around, Sam came back but he's been working with his mother's family ever since, and I worked part-time at one of the Sioux Falls middle schools as a substitute for the English teacher while living at both Jody's and Bobby's. We hadn't heard of Crowley for ages…

*•*•*•*•*•*

I was working a shift instead of a sixty year old, pervy teacher when I decided I'd go visit Bobby— I hadn't seen him in weeks and I wanted some news on the boys. I got in my car and drove to his house as soon as the school bell rang, feeling like a teenage girl who visits her cool uncle once in a while. It was theoretically true.

I arrived there to see a fresh patch of concrete in the backyard —I always got in by the back door. I frowned and made my way inside, feeling eerie a bit.

"Bobby?" I called, somehow knowing he'd be in the basement.

"Down here!" came his muffled voice from downstairs.

I set my bag down on the kitchen table and went there, on my way I heard a woman yell. I figured he was trying to exorcise a demon. I found a girl, barely older than me, tied to a chair in a Devil's trap.

"Yo," I greeted him simply.

"Hey, what'd you need?" he asked gruffily.

I was taken aback by his harsh tone, "Er nothing, just thought I'd say hi. Help around, maybe… Are you okay?"

He looked at me and sighed, "Sorry, I just… Can't get anything done without people interrupting because they need something. Rufus even came to ask for help burying a body, for God's sake!"

I blinked at him, "I don't have anything going on like that, so what's up with that?" I asked pointing at the demon on the chair.

"I need information from her," he replied before turning to her, "what's Crowley's name? Back when he was flesh and blood."

"Does tying a girl on a chair make you feel better about that time when you murdered your wife?" She asked surprising me. I didn't know Bobby ever had a wife.

He didn't answer her, instead he grabbed a sack of what sounded like bones, "What's that?" the demon asked uninterestedly.

"You don't recognize them? They're yours," he said casually before placing the sack on the table next to him such as to be able to see the bones clearly. Then he grabbed his flamethrower and lit it.

"It won't work," she said smugly, "it's a myth."

"Then you got nothing to worry about," he said as he threw fire at her bones, making her yell in pain.

"I can't!" she moaned when he stopped, "you don't know what he'll do to me."

"Right now, you better worry about what I'll do to you," he replied.

"You don't understand, he's the King—"

"King of the Crossroads, I know."

"No, King of Hell," she said.

"Well this is news," I said, impressed.

Bobby was silent as he blew off the flamethrower, and just as he was about to talk the doorbell rang. The demon spoke, "You'll get that or what?"

He turned to me, "Keep her silent."

I nodded and he went upstairs, "That's the blonde neighbor," said the demon, "hoping to tap the drunk."

I threw Holy water in her face and she screamed. Crap! I'd forgotten I needed to shut her up, I'd just acted on impulse. I had to think fast. I went upstairs and heard Bobby talking to Ms. Ward or something about horror movies. I went to the front door and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Bobby. You're missing all the fun!" I said excitedly before glancing at the neighbor and smiling at her and extending my hand, "Hi, I'm Lane Carpenter. And you must be our new neighbor, right?"

She looked confused as she shook my hand and said, "Er—uh yes."

I smiled again, this was getting awkward, "So I'll go rewind what you missed," I told Bobby, "and we're out of chips—"

He handed me the tray she'd brought and said, "Take this to the kitchen while you're at it."

I grabbed it carefully, "Alright," I smelled it and felt my heart leap, "this smells terrific! Don't scare her off, Bobby."

He glared at me while she looked more confused than ever, "Don't you have somewhere you need to be, kid?"

"One question, did you use alcohol when you made this?" I asked her.

She shook her head, "No, I'm sober."

"Awesome! You'll be lucky if you even taste this, Bob'," I said walking away.

He glared at me again, "Go, for God's sake!"

"Okay dad!" I sighed heavily, "Bye ma'am, thanks for this!"

I went to the kitchen and I heard them talking, "Well this is awkward," said Bobby embarrassed.

"So, you two..?"

"What? No! No, nothing like that she's got a twelve year old's brain," he said with a chuckle.

"And you could be a hundred years old, for all I know!" I retorted before going downstairs.

"That was the worst sitcom ever," said the demon as soon as she caught sight of me.

"Spare me your third grade teasing," I sighed, sitting cross-legged on the floor outside of her Devil's trap.

Then, we heard Bobby's heavy footsteps down the stairs, "Are you gonna make sweet love to her and stab her to death? That is your thing, right?"

He didn't answer, but lit up the flamethrower and burned her bones more, "I want Crowley's name, now!" he yelled over the noise.

She was nearly completely consumed so I caught Bobby's gaze, "She's nearly done…"

He nodded at me and stopped the fire, "Last chance, you black-eyed bitch."

"Okay, okay!" She panted desperately, "His name's Fergus McCloud, we call him Lucky the Leprecant behind his back."

"McCloud is Scottish, dumbass," he remarked before turning the flamethrower on full blast.

"No! we had a deal!" She protested frantically before bursting up in flames like ghosts did.

I gave Bobby a look of pity and he scrunched up his face at me saying, "We're hunters, Lane!"

*•*•*•*•*•*

I decided to spend the night at Bobby's, and help him find leverage against Crowley so he got back his soul. After some research he had found out that demons were sort of like ghosts and that they could be completely destroyed by burning their bones.

I went to my room and curled on my bed, tired from the week at school. The night was short but I felt rested. I washed up and went to see what Bobby was making out of that information, but I found him washing blood off his clothes instead.

I frowned and murmured in a still-sleepy voice, "'D'I miss something?"

He saw me and nodded before replying with, "Thing Rufus had me bury escaped and went on a killing spree. At the new neighbor's."

"Ouch," I winced, "must've been me jinxing you when I told you not to scare her off, sorry."

He shook his head, "Nah, you were right. I do scare them off."

I leaned against the kitchen's threshold, "Not Jody," I said, trying to make up for it.

"She's better off without me. Y'all are, except I'd like to see _you_ try," he told me maliciously.

"Meaning?"

"You're all dependent on me, whether it'd be for hunting or other things. When you're stuck, Bobby'll help and never say thanks or ask how he's doing!" He complained loudly.

"I'm sorry, what did I come here for yesterday, Bob?" I asked a tad too exasperated for the matter.

He looked straight into my eyes and seemed like he didn't know what to say. I spared him the trouble of fishing for words by grabbing my keys and jacket and heading toward the closest diner for breakfast.

*•*•*•*•*•*

I was reading in my car, parked in front of a lake when I started feeling guilty about what I said to Bobby. Maybe he wasn't complaining _about_ me but rather _to_ me. I'd just been a total douche to him, not the friend he needed at that moment…

It was nearly sunset when I slapped my book shut and decided to go help Bobby some more and apologize to him. It took me little more than twenty minutes to get there, I ran inside feeling a rush of anxiety. I never knew how to apologize.

"Bobby?" I called, and just like yesterday the reply came from the basement.

"Here!"

I went downstairs and felt a ghost-induced chill. I saw a man, barely younger than me, talking to Bobby in a strong Scottish accent.

"Who's this?" I asked pointing at the ghost.

Bobby looked proud of himself, "Gavin McCloud!"

I was shocked, "McCloud as in—?"

"Yep, very same," Bobby said nodding, "and he gave me interesting information about Daddy dearest."

"Like?" I asked excitedly.

He looked at me, no resentment due to earlier today visible on him, and said, "Don't wanna spoil the surprise, there's more to come."

He continued to interrogate Gavin and asked me to gather the ingredients for demon summoning. I did so and when I was done he drew a Devil's trap on the low ceiling. Was he going to summon Crowley right then and there? I was sure of it but part of me hoped not.

I didn't wanna face the bastard because each time it reminded me of what I had done for Sophia, and that I had eternity with him to spend. I couldn't even take back my soul because Sophia would get sick again and I wouldn't allow it. Bobby summoned Crowley who appeared right under the Devil's trap.

"Well, you look like crap," Bobby greeted.

"And you're a vision, as always," Crowley retorted before noticing me, "hello Poppet." Crowley then sighed after he looked up to see the Devil's trap, "Don't we both know how this game ends? Really, Bobby? You've gotta know when to fold."

They spoke for a bit, about how Crowley had been having difficulties with raising Hell, until they got back to the topic of why he was summoned in the first place.

"Anywho, obviously not here for a social call. So out with it."

"I want—" Bobby started, but Crowley cut in.

"Save it for the recap. In fact, I'll do the shorthound for you," he pointed at Bobby, "'Want me soul back, idjit!'" and then to himself, "''Fraid not.'" to Bobby again, "'But I'm all surly and I got a beard, gimme!'" to himself again, "'Blah blah blah,'" to Bobby, "'Homespun, cornpone insult,'" to himself, "'Witty retort from yours truly.' Bottom line is: you get bubkes. Are we done?"

Bobby wasn't phased by Crowley's obvious uninterest as he said, "Just getting started." and Gavin reappeared.

Crowley looked surprised as he said, "Gavin? Is that you? It— It's been so long… I love you so—" he was acting like a human father would until he broke into a chuckle, "I'm sorry, you saw for my boy, that's it? I gotta give you credit for that, thinking outside the box and all that, but... Problem is, I loathed the little bastard, you wanna torture him just let me pull up a chair and I'll watch. Hell, burn his bones, send him down to me and we can have a family reunion, that's right son?" Crowley turned to us, "You've picked the wrong bargaining chip this time, my friend."

"He ain't a chip," Bobby said simply, making both Crowley and I gape, "I was just using him, to dig up dirt on you. And since Gavin hates you, maybe even more than you hate him, he was more than happy to squawk." announced Bobby. I was not expecting that kind of reunion.

"What did you tell him, son?" Crowley asked calmly.

"Everything," Gavin murmured before disappearing.

Bobby started walking toward Crowley, "I know it all now, Fergus. Now, you may be King of the Dirtbags here. In life? You were nothing but a two-bit tailor who sold his soul for an extra three inches below the belt."

I lost it at that. The King of Hell, former King of the Crossroads, became a demon because he wanted to be better-equipped?

I snorted and of course, he noticed and looked smug as he said, "Just tryin' to reach double digits." Which made me laugh out loud and made him look me up and down before saying, "Time's ticking, Poppet."

I didn't stop laughing, though my laughter went from amused to nervous as I shook my head in a 'Stop, he doesn't know!' way. What was I hoping for?

He pressed on, "I'll love having you as a guest."

"What's he talking about, Lane?" Bobby asked me.

"Later, keep going," I said before sitting cross-legged on the floor.

He grabbed his phone and when whoever it was picked up he put it on loudspeaker, "Hey Crowley," said Dean's voice, "guess what, the Winchesters have gone international now."

I raised an eyebrow and Bobby said, "Gavin was kind enough to tell me where old Fergus was buried."

I'd just then realized that his real name was Fergus and I suppressed a smile. Until I realized that those assholes went to Scotland without me!

"You went to Scots without me?!" I bellowed at the phone.

"Lane? Hey, how's it going?" Dean greeted.

"Without me?!" I bellowed again. Crowley was poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, obviously bored.

"You really think this is the moment, Lane?" Bobby asked exasperated.

I hadn't realized that I'd stood up, so I sat back down with a huff and folded my arms over my chest, sour. "This isn't over, guys!"

"Anyway, guess what we got here, Crowley?" Dean asked.

"A quilt?" He asked in a monotone voice.

"Your bones, and—" we heard a click, "—this is my lighter ready to turn you into ashes."

Crowley gave Bobby a dirty look before waving his hand and making fire writing appear on Bobby's arms, another wave and they were gone. I didn't get what was happening.

"I think we'll go ahead and leave the part about my legs," Bobby suggested as some of the writing appeared again on his arms.

"Can I go now? I've got to be overseas," Crowley said conversationally.

Bobby took his shotgun and broke the circle of the Devil's trap, "Pleasure doing business with you, Crowley."

"Likewise… Both of you," he said looking straight at me.

"Shoot," I breathed as he disappeared in a snap of his fingers.

*•*•*•*•*•*

Bobby didn't confront me about what Crowley said until Sam and Dean got back.

"So," he began when we were all having dinner in his living-room, "what was Crowley saying about enjoying life and doing business with you?"

I choked when I heard him, and Sam and Dean looked confused. "Don't tell me it's what I think it is, Lane," Dean warned.

"You waited for them to come back just so Dean could make me feel guilty, didn't you?" I asked Bobby.

"No, I want an explanation. And they should get it too," he explained nodding at them.

I bit my lip and shrunk, hoping I could go to hell then and there and not have to answer to the question.

"Lane, we're waiting," Dean uttered.

I took a trembling breath, they'd never seen me cry and now was going to be the first time, "Remember the day Bobby told us about his deal?"

Dean nodded slowly, "The hospital had called, right?"

"Sophia had collapsed in PE because of her asthma. She wasn't feeling well to begin with and they had to make her exercise," I said, my voice grave, "I went there and the doctors told me she was too weak to handle that and that they'd have to make her fall into an artificial comas. I was confused and scared for her, so I summoned Crowley and asked to make a deal."

Dean had set down his food when I started talking, he sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face, "And you couldn't tell us that before we let Crowley get his bones back?"

"I knew what I was getting into when I did it. If I'd wanted to cancel it I'd've told you guys long ago, I may be newer to this than you but I learn quickly. I tried to make the most of the deal, she'll never be sick again. I even asked for Bobby to walk again, but he said he couldn't do it for me…"

Bobby frowned, "You asked him to give me back my legs?"

I turned to him, eyes in tears and voice low, "Well yeah, I wanted to make the most of it. I'd've asked for Lucifer to be destroyed but he's just a crossroads demon and even he needed our help for that."

"But he let me keep my legs, you could've asked for Sophia to stay safe while you lived life normally," Bobby objected.

"No," I replied simply.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because Bobby didn't _want_ to sell his soul, and he wasn't resigned to go to hell. I am. I knew what I was getting into and fully accepted it," I explained.

For some reason, Sam looked completely uninterested in the matter.

Dean sighed heavily, "Really Lane?"

"What'd you want me to do? Let her suffer like I did until she was 95 years old?" I ironized.

"What'd you mean, like you did?" Bobby asked.

"I grew up with asthma and spent most of my childhood in hospitals, trying out different treatments which all resulted in a worse situation. And now I hate hospitals, doctors, and all that rubbish. Oddly enough, I'm not afraid of needles." I added distractedly.

Dean pursed his lips, "Nothing we say can change your mind?"

I shook my head, "Just let me smite as many monsters as I can until I die."

Right then, we heard slow claps coming from the kitchen. Each of us grabbed the closest gun until we saw Crowley come out.

"Very touching," he announced as we all sighed, put our guns back down and got back to our food.

"Most people ring the doorbell," I replied.

"I am not 'most people', Poppet," he murmured.

"What're you doing here, Crowley?" Dean asked.

"Dropped by to visit, or is that a crime now?" He feigned honesty.

"Knowing you, it is," Bobby grunted.

Crowley stared at him and then at me, "You told them, then?"

"What is it to you?" I asked, taking another slice of pizza.

"Don't eat that much, your soul won't fit in your cell," he said.

I surveyed him from head to toe as I took the biggest bite I could, enjoying every inch of flavor.

I swallowed before saying, "Do you know how I don't care? And you didn't answer my question."

"I fancy you, that's what it is," he replied making all our eyebrows raise.

"Fancy me? Just that, well I should feel honored. Oddly, I don't," I retorted.

He pressed his lips before saying, "Really, best investment since the extra inches."

"You must've had shitty deals all these years, then. Does it even beat French kissing Bobby?" I asked, making the brothers snort and Bobby sigh heavily.

"By far," Crowley said, "might want to do it again, some time?"

Dean frowned, "You can't make two deals with the same person, Crowley."

He raised his hands, "King of Hell, Squirrel."

"Squirrel?" I repeated.

"Fitting, don't you think Poppet?" Crowley teased before turning to Dean, "Although I wasn't talking about the deal itself, more of the sealing of the deal."

Dean raised his eyebrows while Bobby looked like he wanted to burn Crowley's bones, "Really Crowley?"

"What? Gotta be honest, I didn't think you'd be a good kisser, Poppet."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Didn't think you'd refrain from touching my ass either."

He bit his lower lip and winked at me, "Now I think I should've."

"Don't you have a hell to raise?" Bobby asked him bluntly.

"Jealous?" Crowley teased.

"Just go, please," I demanded, "I'm freaking exhausted. See you guys tomorrow."

I stood up and went upstairs, not even bothering to check whether Crowley was gone. Although he wasn't there when I got back to grab my shotgun. I closed my bedroom door and when I turned around, I found a package on my bed. I held the shotgun with my underarm while I inspected the package. It was a minimal nightgown made of black silk, or what felt like it, and it had lace all over the bra part. I looked further into the package and found a word:

"Like it?"

There was no name but I somehow knew who it was from.

"Fugly," I muttered, scrunching the paper in my hand.

I picked up the package but it felt heavy, so I inspected further in it to find a fancy chocolate box. My teen self would've torn through the box to get all the chocolate but I knew better. Ninety percent of the time I saw Crowley, he either smelled of alcohol or he was drinking something. I was too tired to inspect every single chocolate so I put the whole package on my desk and started undressing for bed.

"I would appreciate a response on my gifts," murmured Crowley's voice when I was halfway through taking off my denim which made me jump and fall on the floor gracelessly.

"Everything okay, Lane?" I heard Dean ask.

"Yeah! Just fell!" I answered, glaring at Crowley. I extended my hand to him whispering, "A little help, maybe?"

He chuckled as he motioned upward with two fingers and I was up before I knew it, "I don't like lingerie, and that chocolate has alcohol in it I'm sure."

He pressed his lips, "Knew you were sober, so I chose the right kind of box… As for the lingerie, I'll give it some time."

"If you knew I was sober you'd've known that I don't have sex," I commented, as I grabbed a large t-shirt.

He saw my pajama pants laying discarded, "What about those?"

"What is it with you and not your business?" I asked exasperated.

"Well," he began, "I like my investments to be—"

"Stop calling me your 'investment' I just did that to save my sister, I'm not your business partner or some crap like that. Just leave me alone!" I bellowed, out of my mind and not caring that the others heard me.

He didn't flinch or look like he was paying attention to me, he traced his chin with his thumb saying, "Until next time, Poppet."

* * *

 **R &R? Pwease x**


	4. Renegotiation

**SPOILERS! For season 7 and maybe season 8? You've been warned! From the first paragraph it goes.**

 **A lot of crying and hugging (not involving Crowley, that is), and erm... Everything else is in the chapter. Same warnings as usual, language and attempted killing.**

 **Alright enjoy! R &R? :D x**

* * *

 **One Season and a Half Later  
Six Years Left**

Skipping the whole Leviathans chapter, those three years had been somewhat Crowley-free. As his voicemail would say, he was "too busy inflicting pain" to hang around and bother me. And it was more than welcome because I'd lost the only father figure I'd ever truly loved. Bobby got killed by Dick Roman over a year ago and it killed us all in a way, especially Dean, seeing as he was carrying the flask that let Bobby roam among the living for some time until he turned vengeful and we had to act.

Then there were the tablets. The Leviathan tablet came in useful when we wanted to wipe the species from Earth, then Crowley went to look for the Demon tablet and after Kevin Tran, only person who could read the tablets his being a prophet. For a whole year after Dean had killed Dick everything calmed down, although I didn't know where he was —or Sam and Kevin, for that matter. I'd been back at Jody's all while trying to get a hold of either of the three, up until I got a call from Dean and went to the cabin we'd shared when those Leviathan bastards had burned down Bobby's house.

There, I learned that Dean had gone to Purgatory, Sam lived with a girlfriend and a dog, and Kevin went AWOL ever since Dick got destroyed.

* * *

*•*•*•*•*•*

Months later, we came across the Men of Letters' bunker in Kansas. It was then that I learned that the whole situation was too dangerous for me to be affiliated with Sophia. She'd be put in danger if any enemies knew she was my sister, Crowley didn't wait to prove that. I pondered over the idea I'd had for days, often staying in the bunker to make research on the brothers' cases and having alone time to weigh the pros and the cons of it.

It was one rainy night when I decided to do it, for better for worse. I grabbed some ingredients from the Men of Letters' storage, my keys, and I drove out of state leaving a word for Kevin to find when he woke up saying I'd gone to visit my sister.

When I arrived in the outskirts of Jefferson City, Missouri, I looked for a crossroad and buried the box of the junk that summoned crossroads demons and I waited, unarmed and with no Devil's traps anywhere. I was waiting, leaning against my car, for ten minutes until a tall, lanky man in a black suit appeared, looking satisfied with himself and excited all at once.

I eyed him up and down, stood straight up and said, "I need Crowley."

"That's your deal?" He asked, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

"He already holds my contract, I wish to add a clause in it," I claimed, unable to hide my deception.

"The King is indisposed," he announced haughtily.

I sighed and grabbed my shotgun as I shot him with salt, making him disappear. Time for plan B, I was going to summon him personally. I did the spell and waited again, except I was sitting on the backseat, cross-legged. Five minutes, then ten… Twenty minutes, forty-five minutes… I was growing infuriated. I started pacing in front of the car, under the misty rain, unable to contain myself. It had taken me weeks of hesitation to get to this moment and he had _the nerve_ to be late.

It was nearing two hours' wait when I finally decided to go back to the bunker, deeming this a sign from God that I shouldn't have come. I started my car, blasting Paint It Black by The Rolling Stones when—

"It's quite rude to call someone and leave when they're here, you know?" Uttered the voice that I loathed the most at that moment, sitting shotgun.

I felt so enraged at that moment that I stuck my pocket knife square in his chest and I got out of the car, breathing heavily.

"I waited for two hours you detestable, infuriating, slimy little bastard!" I thundered wrenching the car door open to reveal him pulling out my knife.

"This shirt was new," he complained completely unphased by how furious I was.

"And this is getting old, who do you think you are?!" I snapped, a little out of my mind from sleep deprivation.

He raised an eyebrow at me and inquired, "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"It's all your fault!" I roared, pacing in front of the open passenger door.

"And exactly _what_ is my fault?" Crowley asked, stepping out of my car, still as calm as the soft rain which wet my hair progressively as I paced beneath it.

I looked at him, calming down as I let myself be drenched in rain and I tried to breathe normally as I spoke, "I'd like to add a clause in my contract."

"There you go, now was that so hard?" He asked, tilting his head toward me.

I bit my tongue in order not to insult him and counted to five in my mind before saying, "Please, Crowley. Can't you be serious once in a while?"

He surveyed me, dismayed, before uttering, "What clause?"

I took a deep breath, "I want her to forget about me, to think that Jody raised her as a Godmother."

He frowned at me, "That it?"

I glanced at him, "What'd you mean?"

"You're upset just because she's going to forget about you? Knowing who you hang around with, it should do more than please you," he remarked.

"I want them undetectable by both angels and demons," I added, with what little confidence I had left.

"One person only, Poppet," he muttered.

"Add Jody and you get a year off. Instead of collecting my soul in six years, you'll get it in five," I bid, vulnerably.

He blinked at me in surprise, "You're pretty serious about this, aren't you?"

I gave him a squalid glare, "The absence of humanity in you makes you even more despicable than if you were human."

"You hurt me, Poppet," he mused with a hand where I had stabbed him.

"Crowley, for God's sakes!" I bellowed as the song changed to Back In Black by AC/DC.

"Dean really has influenced your taste in music," Crowley commented.

"He's influenced my ability to smite demons as well so please focus on the matter at hand," I pleaded, jaded.

"Fine, state your terms clearly," he ordered, seemingly apathetic.

I cleared my throat and then it dawned on me that I'd never see her again, that I'd never get the chance to say goodbye. And so what was supposed to be determined terms changed into a small voice, requesting, "I'd like to visit them one last time."

Crowley was taken aback by the weakness in my voice, he turned to me and raised his eyebrows slightly before grabbing my hand and snapping his fingers. We were in front of Jody's house, it was about 10:30p.m. and Sophia must've been put straight to bed.

I turned to Crowley who was looking at the house, "I'll wait here."

I glanced at him and pondered over whether to thank him or not, but I just said, "Okay." before going to ring the doorbell.

Jody opened the door, holding a sandwich, "Hey Lane! It's a bit late, is everything okay?"

"Uh yeah, everything's fine I just… I wanted to come and visit Sophia. It's been weeks…"

"Of course, come on in," she said widening the door opening.

"Thanks," I murmured going straight to my sister's room.

I went in and saw her on her phone, probably online. She had her bookshelf full and in no fit state to accommodate someone looking for reading material, although her Holy Coran was on her bedside table.

I smiled inwardly at that and greeted her, "Hey Sophia."

She turned and saw me, it wasn't two seconds before she'd jumped out of bed and came to hug me with both arms and legs, "You've been away for months! Why? What're you fighting this time?"

I laughed lightly at her excitement and sat us down on her bed, "Sweetie, I need to tell you something important."

She lost almost all excitement as she sat next to me, her back straight, "What's going on?"

"I uh… I came to say goodbye, for good," I muttered, irrationally hoping she hadn't heard me and we could leave it at that.

"Why? You're in danger? Don't tell me you sold your soul!" She exclaimed, horrified.

I opened my mouth and no sound came out, "The situation is too dangerous for both angels and demons to know that you're my sister, I need to keep you protected and shielded from them."

She had tears in her eyes, I should've seen it coming but somehow it still depressed me, "Sweetheart, it kills me to have to do this. It really does, but I must do what's best for you. I promised mom I'd keep you safe when you were born, I promised her you'd live somewhere better than Algeria and with people who love you. Jody loves you, I made her your Godmother when I saw that you two got along.

"And if someday you feel like you can't carry on, just read the Coran. If you feel like you don't have anything to live for, read Supernatural. If you want to remember me, read Harry Potter. Listen to Hey Jude, and you'll feel better—"

"I don't want that bullshit, I want you!" She sobbed, pulling me into a hug.

"You're twelve years old, you need that before and when you grow up," I replied, hugging her back and caressing her raven hair…

"I want to grow up with you, you're my mom." She protested against my chest, between sobs.

I cried silently and kissed the top of her head, "I love you to heaven and back, Sophia."

"I love you Lane, don't leave me," she wept again and again, tearing through my heart each time she did. I was ashamed of myself for making her endure this, but I needed closure.

"You can talk to Yamanda, she—"

"She hates me!" She protested, outraged.

"No she doesn't, she just couldn't come with us here," I defended our older sister quite poorly, mostly because I could think of hardly anything else to soothe Sophia.

"She has her own kids, she doesn't need me," she said stubbornly.

I embraced her again, tight, and kissed the top of her head, "With time, you'll see more clearly…"

"Stay with me until I fall asleep," she whispered weakly.

I agreed, and lied down with her. For nearly an hour, we spoke of everything and anything. I gave her all the advice I could, about boys, books, writing, religion, marriage, her behavior toward people with different beliefs or practices than hers… I gave her the talk of a lifetime in one sleepy and tearful hour.

Until finally she fell asleep and I stood up, sore from everything that had happened. I went to her desk and wrote a letter to Jody, and one for Sophia when she turned eighteen.

I left Sophia's room as noiselessly as I could and I found Jody in the living-room, watching TV.

She immediately noticed that I'd cried, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I replied barely concealing my shaky voice from her, "it's just that I just said goodbye to her. I'm never seeing either of you again, it's too dangerous. I'm going to make you two undetectable to both demons and angels, that way you'll be safe from the supernatural."

Jody was speechless, "I uh… She's your sister, Lane."

I bit my lip worriedly, "Is this too much to ask? I'm so sorry, I didn't think about—"

"No, silly. Can you bear not to see her anymore?" She asked me.

I nodded, "I can be a heartless bitch when I want to. Plus, she'll be safe here with you. You're her Godmother, aren't you?"

Jody nodded and opened her arms, "If you say so, come here."

I went into her arms and hugged her as well. This was hugging night, apparently. I gave her the letters, told her to open hers when I was gone only and I got out, finding Crowley waiting for me.

"Sorry it took so long, I—"

He raised a hand, "No need. I had time to think over what I want in exchange."

"I told you you'd get my soul a year earlier," I protested.

"Not enough," he said simply.

"Let's go back to my car to discuss this," I demanded and he complied.

"I want your soul to be mine," he announced as soon as we were back in Missouri. It was humid rather than rainy, and the air was thick.

I choked on air when he said it, "Yours as in…?"

"As in mine, you obey me and are at my disposal," he explained, making my heart sink slightly. At least I wouldn't be tortured in hell… Would I?

I frowned, "Will I go to hell?"

He smirked, "If I tell you to, yeah."

I shuddered, "How long will I be yours?"

"Forever. You never age, I'm being a Saint right here," he added in a self-satisfied tone.

"I guess it's better than eternal damnation…" I conceded, "And when does it start?"

"A year from now," he announced, making him glance at him in shock.

"Two years," I pleaded in a whisper.

"One and a half," he decided, informing me that he wouldn't go any further. "Now state your terms."

"I'm dead to them," I said, "no demons and no angels can get to them. Sophia always remembers everything I told her tonight."

"That all?" He asked boredly.

"Too much?" I asked, worried.

He snapped his fingers, "Done. Time to seal the… Renegotiation?"

I gulped hard and nodded. He approached me, just like last time, except that he was the one to start the kiss this time. He ran a hand through my hair and pressed his lips against mine, making them caress each other. He slid his tongue inside my mouth and I put a hand on the back of his neck. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I thought I was hallucinating when I felt him bite my lower lip. I broke off the kiss and engaged in it again, my breathing haggard against his peaceful one. We made out for about three minutes when I felt his hand go down my butt.

I broke off, "I think it's sealed now."

"Just when I was starting to really enjoy myself," he complained, looking more than pleased with himself.

"See you in a year and a half," I muttered going back to my car.

"Maybe earlier," he spoke before disappearing for good.

"It's always earlier," I muttered to myself as I put the music at full volume to drown out my incessant sobs. I was going to let it all out at once, I let everything out of me until I felt sore. And I did it some more until I had no tears left in me, nothing to cry about anymore, nothing that could make me weak or vulnerable.

The bitch was back.


	5. Addicted

**Hey luvs! Spoilers for season 9 and season 8 finale. Crowley's change is in sync with the episodes and what happened there... Don't wanna spoil in this AN, sorriez.**

 **Warnings... nothing, it's just a bit of Hurt/Comfort and sass... Oh! Smoking.**

 **Alright, enjoy! R &R please? x**

* * *

 **Months Later**

As Sam was undergoing the trials to close the Gates of Hell, Crowley was being more of a bitch about the demon tablet all while having the angel tablet for himself. The third trial, Kevin said, was to cure a demon. We didn't understand what it meant, at first. But after some research among the Men of Letters' archives we found out that demon souls could be cured by an incantation and pure human blood injections.

As for me, I got my shell back. When I was a teenager, I wouldn't let anything get to me emotionally. Even when my older sister showed me pictures of Palestinian kids I wouldn't flinch. Of course, I still knew what feelings I should have. Sadness, compassion… Pain. I knew what I should feel, I just chose not to feel that. Now, I should be overwhelmed with longing and desperation, but I chose not to acknowledge the feelings and focus on closing the Gates of Hell.

On a similar note, I chose to change my name a few days after parting with Sophia. And so, from Lane Carpenter I became Nuha Lloyd. I also changed my hair colour from golden brown/auburn to jet black with scalp-tight braids on my left temple. It felt like a new start for me, and if ever I had to see Sophia or Jody again, I'd just have to put a lot of makeup on, as much as I despised the stuff. They'd never seen me with more than mascara and lipstick on, and that'd fool them just enough for me not to be Lane.

*•*•*•*•*•*

"But we have a demon already," Sam insisted, "Crowley."

"Up whose sleeve is he?" I asked bluntly, sipping on a bottle of sparkling water, my guilty pleasure.

"He wants the demon tablet, Lane—"

"—Nuha," I corrected.

"Whatever, and we want the angel tablet. If we can capture him while making the transaction we'll get both tablets _and_ Crowley," Sam explained, a little overexcited.

"Calm down, Dora the Explorer," I brawled, standing up from my chair, "we need to plan this carefully, how'd you think you're going to capture him? He can still smoke out of his meatsuit."

"It's like you don't know us," mused Dean, "we've got plenty of tools that can help us capture him."

"Well then, what're we waiting for?" I spoke decisively.

"Hold your horses, champ." Dean stammered, putting a restraining hand on my arm.

I sighed heavily as I sat back down and waited for the whole thing to be planned out carefully.

*•*•*•*•*•*

We'd captured Crowley successfully and had him tied in a church where Sam was going to cure him. At some point, Dean had to run to Castiel for something I didn't know about which meant I had to guard the church's entrance for Sam to complete the trial in what little peace we could afford.

Crowley was a bit annoying at first, and then Abaddon came and knocked me out while some other crap happened. When I got back to my senses, Sam was trying to wake me up and Crowley was still on the chair, thrown sideways and beaten bloody by whom I guessed was Abaddon.

I fixed the Devil's trap while Sam was putting Crowley back upright, "What're you doing?" the demon asked frantically.

"We're finishing the process, you'll be more likeable as a human," I announced.

"But I just saved your lives, I made Abaddon go away! You owe me!" He protested feverishly.

"Right," I mused, "keep it going, Sam."

And then Crowley started talking nonesense about motel rooms and HBO, and he finished it with, "—she deserves it, don't we all? You, me. We deserve to be loved, I DESERVE TO BE LOVED!… I just wanna be love," he murmured weakly.

Sam and I stared at him and glanced at each other, "What?"

"Huh?" was Crowley's response at our gaping mouths.

Sam sighed and took another syringe, Crowley tilted his head to the side to allow him full access to his throat. It went on a little more until Crowley sighed and stared at us.

"Could it be possible, Moose?" He began, "I'd like to— to uh ask you a favour. Sam, earlier when you were confessing, back there… What did you say?" Sam started walking toward him, "I only ask because, given my history, it raises the question: where do I start to even look for forgiveness?"

I looked hopefully at Sam who was staring at Crowley incredulously, "D'you think you've done it?"

He was about to answer when Dean came barrelling in, saying he'd die if he went through with the trial…

*•*•*•*•*•*

A few weeks later found us going back to the bunker, Sam feeling better from all the trials, Dean anxious for some reason, Crowley tied up in the dungeon, Kevin out of his mind at our having Crowley alive in the bunker, and finally me in between all that boy drama and only seeking a week of calm.

I was looking for some of the Men of Letters' files to study when I arrived in the dungeon's antichamber. Sam had seen Crowley steal some of Kevin's blood and inject it in himself, sighing contentedly at the fact. I mused that he was a human blood junkie but it didn't make Sam laugh for some reason. Always so solemn…

Crowley must've heard my boots clicking against the floor because he said, "Is that Lane?"

I thought of ignoring him, but then my curiosity got the better of me and I opened the shelves to see him with a beard longer than I'd ever seen him, "I like the beard," I greeted him, "and it's Nuha now."

"Not to me, Poppet," he said huskily before smirking.

I half-smiled, "Do you still want to be loved, David Bowie?" I mocked, folding my arms and leaning against the threshold.

He glared at me for a few seconds before speaking, "I actually need something from you."

I raised my eyebrows, "What is it?"

He imitated me, "I thought you'd play hard to get…?"

"I'm not saying I'll do it, I'm just curious at what you'd have the nerve to ask from me," I replied simply before fetching my bottle of sparkling water from where I left it on the floor.

"I thought you were sober."

"Bubbles," I stated.

"I need your blood," he requested before painfully adding, " _please_."

"I don't like needles," I responded, "if you could be a vampire about this, it'd be much better but you like to complicate things."

"I need it in my veins, not my stomach," he explained before surveying me and adding, "not a fan of your new look, I must say."

"I didn't do it for you to _like_ it," I said before drinking from the bottle.

"Gonna have to change when you're mine," he announced, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"I guess that's why I'm going all out on my looks, I'm doing whatever I want until you force me into slutty outfits," I mused, caressing the bottle's rim against my lower lip.

He licked his lips and smacked them before saying, "You're tempting me, Poppet. And I have much more class than that," he added, offended.

I snorted, "Right… Well, I'll be off now. Enjoy your stay, King."

"I meant it when I said I fancied you, the other day," he called as I was closing the shelves.

"The other year, you mean," I corrected, making them click shut.

*•*•*•*•*•*

A few days later, I wanted someone to talk to and the brothers were away on a case while Kevin was too preoccupied with those damn tablets to be of any company. And so I grabbed a beer and a bottle of bubbles and made my way to what I liked to call Crowley's quarters.

I opened the shelves wordlessly and set the opened bottles down on the table in front of him. I grabbed a chair, sat down, and lit a cigarette before putting my feet on the table.

"Never pegged you for a smoker," he greeted me, "and I don't drink beer."

"It'll have to do, champ," I said, having a sip of my drink.

"Still better than the nothing I've had since I arrived," he sighed as he took a sip, "to what do I owe the pleasure, Lane?"

"Nuha," I corrected stubbornly.

"I don't like that name," he commented.

"None of your concern for now, is it?" I replied before taking a smokey breath.

"For now," he murmured seductively before tilting his head at me, "red lips, hm?"

I kept the cigarette at my lips when I smirked at him, "I do hope you have a nice taste in women because I figure you're the kind to dress up your merchandise before you deal with it."

He drank from his beer and raised his eyebrows at me, "You say this like I don't have a heart."

"Do you?" I inquired eyeing him quizzically.

He pondered over it before shrugging, "I like to pretend I do. Give me one, will you?"

I blinked at him and smiled widely, "Where's your _'please'_?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Really? Is that such a turn on to you?"

"I like my man polite," I stated as I went to fetch my cigarette case from my room. I came back to see him drinking from _my_ bottle. "What're you doing? Trying to sober up?"

"Actually trying to figure out what you like about this," he said casually.

I kissed my teeth as I presented him with his cigarette between my forefinger and my middle one, "Here."

He took it and put it between his thin lips, "Fire?"

I looked around and cursed myself for forgetting the lighter on my desk, so I snatched his unlit smoke from his lips which he deemed "Rude." and I lit it by pressing the lit extremity of mine against his and breathing in. It did the trick and I gave him his, a little tainted by my lipstick at the filter.

He drew in a breath and then exhaled white smoke before frowning at me, "Menthol? Really?"

"I like it," I said simply as I sat back down and put the cigarette case on the table. It was black with the words _'Keep Calm & Carry On My Wayward Son'_ in white. I remembered the song and started humming it best I could, which meant pitifully.

"You have many abilities," Crowley said before adding, "singing isn't one of them."

"I'm not even actually singing, although if you wanted me to—"

"No, thanks. Quite enough to hear you butcher a nice song," he protested making me laugh lightly— honestly.

I stopped suddenly and looked at him. He had a questioning look on his face, "What?"

"I think this is the first time I've heard you laugh," he murmured.

"And I think I like you better with human blood running through your veins," I said as we both grabbed our bottles and clinked them together in a toast.

"To us," he claimed.

"To your human self and me," I corrected.

"Fair enough," he conceded before an agreable silence settled in. Not the awkward kind where both parties were fishing for words, rather the _'Let's appreciate the peace of the silence together instead of tainting it with words.'_ kind. I was thinking about life in general, my eyes closed and enjoying my drink. And he was calmly doing the same— so I thought. It was a perfect moment…

Until he murmured, "Why have you come here, Nuha?"

I was taken aback by his use of my new name, I opened my eyes and turned to him. I wondered whether I should tell him the truth, that I was feeling depressed about today because it was Sophia's birthday, and I desperately needed someone to talk to in order to forget about my painful state. I fixated him, trying to read his expression, but I only found inquisition and interest in it. Should I confess to him? Should I just derive the subject? He'd know one way or another…

I cleared my throat, "I uh… I don't know," I settled on lying at the last second.

He kept the same expression as he uttered, "You're lying."

"Why did you have to ruin such a peaceful moment with your inquiry?" I demanded, keeping my voice quiet so as to be able to reproduce such a moment.

He caught my drift and lowered his voice to a murmur, "I need to know, Nuha."

I pressed my lips together before drinking the last sip of my bottle and turning fully to him, "I needed someone to talk to."

"Why not Kevin?" Crowley asked, still murmuring.

I sighed, "Because he doesn't know about Sophia. For all he knows, today is a normal day and I don't have a sister…"

"Why is today not a normal day?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Do you know why I hate small children? Because they ask too many damn questions and only keep quiet when they're asleep."

He pursed his lips, "Come on, Poppet."

I averted my eyes from him, "Today's her birthday. It used to piss me off when she was with me because that was also a day that I dreaded. My mother died right after she woke up from labour, made me promise to look after Sophia and raise her in a proper society. I never told Sophia this, she thinks mom died when she was six months or so… I know she'd think it was her fault.

"I always used to put her to bed earlier in order to…" I sighed heavily, not wanting to give in to the feelings of sadness and grieve that overwhelmed me. I changed the subject, "You don't wanna become human, Crowley. All those feelings and emotions, they're not worth the high you get out of human blood…"

"How would you know?" He asked somewhat spitefully.

I gave him a dirty glare, "Because I am human and it sucks. You've no idea how I'd love to really be a heartless bitch, except you come up and ask me those questions and bring everything up and— I just— I just can't, it's too much!"

I had no idea I had stood up and was pacing around the room, until he murmured again, "Sit down, please."

I did as told and grabbed another cigarette, I was going to light it when I remembered where the lighter was. I plucked Crowley's and used it to light mine. I was going to give him his back when he touched my hand. His was cold and dry whereas mine had started sweating and was burning hot. I looked at him and he had a completely foreign expression on his face: compassion. My lips parted involuntarily and I drew a shuddering breath.

I was on the verge of crying. I wanted nothing more than to get away from Crowley's quarter but I knew that if Kevin saw me crying he'd ask questions. I could go directly under a hot shower… Or have a bath, yes that would make me feel better. I stood up, grabbed the bottles and the cigarette butts and made my way outside of the dungeon.

"Where to, Nuha?" Crowley called.

I turned to him, my eyes loaded with tears but my face hard, "My former state."

*•*•*•*•*•*

I avoided Crowley for weeks after what had happened. I was wondering why I liked Crowley's company so much. It could be because he was the only one to know fully what happened with Sophia. It could be because he was so easier to talk to than Sam, Dean or Kevin.

A bigger part of me told me that it was because he was a demon and he wouldn't bother with the _'It gets better…'_ crap, that he'd just listen because he had no other source of entertainment. A smaller part of me, as small as my hopes for the future, that I kept hushed up inside of me because I knew it was the truth and I was just too afraid to face it… That part said what I dreaded to hear most: I was addicted to Crowley.


End file.
